


Finally

by alinewrites



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-09
Updated: 2010-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-12 13:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alinewrites/pseuds/alinewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the lie-or-lay challenge on DS flashfiction.<br/>Post COTW</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finally

Six years since the adventure and then what? A few awkward meetings and an indefinite number of equally awkward phone calls.

It's all they have.

That and the vivid recollections of forty nights spent curled up against each other during the so called adventure; sweaty and sticky with sex. The memory of the wild lover Fraser is. Was. Would be. Won't be anymore.

You win a trip to paradise and then get your ass kicked out… One more thing you're not good enough for, Ray.

But six years, fuck!

They don't even call each other anymore. Talking's kind of hard when there's nothing you can say; just convenient lies, anything to avoid the only subject that matters because Ray's terrified of what Fraser could say. Like… 'Oh, I'm sorry Ray, you're just a very good friend'. Ex-partners. Buddies. Damn buddies, it's not what Ray wants and he's tired of pretending; he's getting too old for that.

Fraser's plane landed less than 30 minutes ago but Ray feels like he's been here for hours, waiting for Fraser in the sickening heat of the crowded airport. How can it take so long to retrieve one single bag at the baggage claim and just walk out anyway?

Come on Fraser, hurry; I don't have all day.

Of course, he should know better. There goes Fraser, casual clothes, which means jeans (tight), leather jacket (worn), boots (shiny), helping an old lady with her bags, guiding her to an information desk, talking to the ticket clerk and making sure everything's right before looking around…

"Fraser!"

"Just a minute, Ray!"

"Countdown's on, Fraser! 60, 59…"

Not exactly the kind of meeting he expected, but Ray just can't help the exasperation. Finally –finally - Fraser crosses the hall, smiling at Ray and a smiling Fraser is hard to resist so Ray gives a faint smile of his own and suddenly Fraser's standing close. Very close.

"I'm sorry, Ray, I was reluctant to leave Mrs. Smith in her current state. During the course of our flight, she expressed some concern; she's never been to the United States before so …"

"You don't say hi anymore, Fraser?"

"Oh. Sorry, yes. It's good to see you, Ray!"

Ray tilts his head on the side, waiting; Fraser frowns, looking puzzled.

"Ray?"

"It's the moment when you're supposed to say something like…'Hello I missed you'" Ray's beginning to lose it, like *really* lose it, and he rolls his eyes at Fraser's surprise.

"That was a given, Ray." Fraser said in his perfect Mountie's clipped tone.

"Yeah? How would I know?"

"Of course. I understand. I missed you, Ray." Still polite and shit, Ray's officially mad at Fraser now and that's almost comforting –reminds him of the old times. Being mad at Fraser is something familiar, like, say, eating pizza with him or watching hockey, or listening to some incredibly boring story…

"Like hell."

"What?"

"I missed you like hell, Fraser. Why is it you wouldn't see me, why do I have to wait for Welsh's fucking retirement party to see you?" Ray says and adds, "Did you bring a fish, by the way?"  
"A… A fish?"

Fraser looks utterly at a loss now. And weary. Definitely older, Ray can see it but so good looking that Ray's heart nearly skips a beat.

"A fish; did you bring one? So we can catch it with our mouth, remember; Inuit tradition and all?"

That brings the ghost of a smile to Fraser's tempting lips, erasing the sad line at the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't know you'd remember that… I didn't bring a fish but we can buy one, though."

"Great! Greatness! Let's go!"

Off already, walking out but Fraser calls him back, nearly shouting his name, people turning to look at them.

"Ray! Ray, Ray, Ray!"

"Don't! Don't do this! I heard you the first time!"

Ray walks back to him, stands there, uncertain.

"Would you take off your sunglasses, Ray please? Considering there's no sun at all, I don't think you need them. "

Ray takes off his glasses with a sigh and slips them in his pocket.

"Happy now?"

"Thank you kindly. Ray what did you mean before?"

"About the fish?"

"No, about missing me… tremendously?"

Here we go, then, Ray thinks.

"What do you think?"

"I don't know, Ray. Why don't you tell me?"

Fraser's voice is soft; he's rubbing his thumb nail along his eyebrow.

"Why don't *you* tell me?" Ray says, pointing aggressively at Fraser "Hello? Canada? Politeness? Same sex marriages?"

Shit, this is not what he wanted to say. But Fraser seems to get it.

"Ah."

"Don't 'ah' me, Fraser. Don't you fucking 'Ah' me. You never ah-ed me way back in the Northwest areas…"

"Territories, Ray."

"Fraser!"

"No. I didn't but the context was quite different and as far as I can remember it wasn't really about talking. Other very pleasurable activities seemed to demand our full attention."

Ray's not sure he can answer anything so he just shrugs. Very funny, Fraser, I could think this was a joke if I didn't feel so dejected.

"Let's go, Frase; I want to drop by home first before we go to the restaurant."

They walk in silence through the hall, down the elevator, Fraser staring at the door. During the trip Fraser doesn't talk much, doesn't even protest when Ray runs three stoplights in a row.

Finally they're standing in the middle of Ray's living room and Ray thinks this is going to be one more useless awkward meeting when Fraser says "You know, Ray, the situation about same sex marriages in Canada is not as simple as you might think; you might want to consider…"

I can't believe he's pulling this shit, Ray thinks.

"Fraser, stop this."

Fraser looks genuinely unhappy. Chastised.

"Understood. Sorry."

Ray sighs and turns away, looking for something to do that would ease the tension but Fraser's speaking again.

"Ray?"

"Yes?"

"I missed you too, Ray, more than you can imagine," He's rubbing his eyebrow again "but every time I had you on the phone you sounded so distant and it was like nothing had ever happened so I convinced myself that maybe there had actually been nothing at all between us. Just… the illusion of something. Comfort. Heat."

"You never asked me back," Ray says, trying hard not to whine.

"I thought if I did I wouldn't be able to let you walk away again. The first time was hard enough."

Ray takes two steps forward and they're nearly touching. Fraser takes rests his fingers on Ray's wrist, light touch on the bare skin.

"Do you… Would you marry me, Ray?"

Ray's not sure he really heard it, he has to look deep into Fraser's blue luminous eyes, then down at the fingers holding his wrist, trembling a little.

"It took you long enough, Frase," is all he manages to say.

"You could've asked first."

And Fraser's hug is warm and solid and … Loving, God, it is; Ray hasn't been held this way for years and he's been longing for it so much, he wants to lose himself in this embrace. Grow old and die in it, never leave the shelter of these arms, never let Fraser go.

"There's an ancestral Inuit mating ritual…"

"Frase!"

"All right. You might appreciate it though, it's quite exhilarating."

"Not if it involves dead moose in any form."

"It doesn't, Ray."

Fraser's breath is hot against his ear, his lips brushing against his jaw biting, kissing, the tip of his tongue stroking the corner of Ray's mouth; there's a sharp intake of breath when Ray presses closer, arms tightening around Fraser.

"Ray, do you think we have to wait for an official ceremony before we can consummate?"

"I don't think so, Frase. It's not like we never did it before."

"Of course."

The kiss is exactly the way it was supposed to be, deep and hungry and Fraser's holding him so tight Ray's not sure he's still breathing.

"I suggest we take this to your room, Ray. Bed."

"Bed. Right. Bed is good, bed is…"  
"You talk too much, Ray."

Ray's last coherent thought as he's being led to his own bedroom by a very determined Mountie is that they're going to be very late at Welsh's party. Because there's no way on earth he's leaving Fraser's arms now that he's finally there and Fraser seems to agree to the whole plan.

Finally.


End file.
